


Hourglass

by e_of_west_glendia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_drizzle, HP Drizzle Fest 2020, M/M, Marauders era, Muggle AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_of_west_glendia/pseuds/e_of_west_glendia
Summary: Sirius encounters a boy who got mugged. He offers to give him a ride home.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83
Collections: HP Drizzle Fest 2020





	Hourglass

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is: Someone has no clothes or shoes suitable for the weather.
> 
> (I swear it becomes relevant at the end)

It’s not quite dark outside yet when Sirius decides to leave the Fair. The last rays of sunlight filtering out against the horizon, turning the sky to shades of orange and pink and purple. 

He’d left James and Peter to their own devices. Content to leave for a smoke break while the other two go on the water safari ride. Sirius enjoyed water rides just as much as the next person, but the thought of freezing to death under the hand of the harsh Gryffinor winds wasn’t as appealing to him. 

A brief glance up at the sky makes him scoff. The edges of the skyline are laced with dark clouds. Heavy with unshed rain and threatening to disrupt the myriad of colors painted across the sky. He might not have any choice in getting wet. 

“Typical,” he murmurs. 

He can’t remember one time when the weather patterns in this city matched up with their given seasons. It was August for god sake . There was absolutely no reason for it to rain. None at all. 

He passes the park benches at the outskirts of the Fair, wondering briefly why they decided to place the picnic area so far in the back. It’s not as though they haven’t done this before. It’s every year. Every year the Fair is the same. And every year Sirius is plagued by the same random questions, letting them chase daunting circles around in his mind. 

The benches fade into the background as he approaches the tall, brick, office buildings that border the off streets. If there’s any good places to get away from people, it’s here. 

Ducking down an alley, Sirius slips his package of cigarettes out of his pocket, hitching the bottom of the box under his sleeves. He stares down at the swooping letters that dance across the cover of the box. They’re obscured by the hem of his sleeve and the shadows and twilight of the late hour. 

He comes to a halt about halfway down the alley. Leaning casually against the wall as he pulls his lighter from his pocket. Deftly using his fingers to push out the tightly rolled cigarette. 

The flame from the lighter roars to life in a haze of red and orange. He pops the cigarette between his lips, the combination of his cupped hand and the small flame creating a small halo of light. 

His eyes slip shut as the first trendils of smoke curl towards the sky. Dimly Sirius remembers how bad this is for him. How in the long run this isn’t sustainable— how it’s killing him. But a bigger, much louder, part of himself provides a not so gentle reminder of just how necessary unsustainable habits can be. 

A couple long drags later, and Sirius is sufficiently satisfied that James and Peter are close to done with their ride. He should head back now. 

He turns back in the direction he came, giving himself a small mental reminder to put out the cigarette before he got back to the others. James was an enormous mother hen, and although sweet it could be extremely annoying. 

He represses a snort of laughter as memories of times James’ mom-friend instincts kicked in. 

The mouth of the alley approaches and he exits. Pausing briefly to decide which way to turn. If he goes straight he can get back with plenty of time to spare. Probably with enough time to buy popcorn if he’s really being honest with himself. He could also turn left, the longer way. It might cause James and Peter a bit of a wait, but then again, they’d made him wait too. 

With a shrug Sirius makes the turn. Opting for the scenic route. 

He walks slowly down the streets, fingers skimming across the walls of buildings he’s seen everyday of his life. Memories imprinted into every street corner. 

He’s just past Main Street when he hears it— a curse. Not like someone casting a spell — although the person very well could be casting some sort of spell with the fever of their words — but an all out, furious rage. 

Curious, Sirius peaks in the direction of the voice. It’s coming from another alley. A darker one than the one he just left. 

The voice comes again, accompanied by something that sounds suspiciously like a trash can being kicked. It’s this last bit of supposed violence that draws Sirius in that direction. 

The source of the noise is easily identifiable. It’s a boy about his age. He seems absolutely furious and he is indeed, kicking a trash can. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” the boy chants, foot connecting violently with the side of the trash bin between each breath. 

“How. Could. I. Have. Been. So. Stupid— ow!” A string of expletives follows. 

Sirius winces on behalf of the poor metal appliance. Whatever it did to deserve being kicked must have been bad. 

He could say something helpful. Something filled with polite inquiry. Instead he says, “You’re going to break your foot.” 

The boy starts, jerking his head up in the direction of the voice. His eyes narrow once they land on Sirius. 

“Thank you, Nancy Drew for that deduction” he snaps. 

It takes Sirius a second to respond. He’s too busy scanning the features of Trash Can Kicker. 

He’s extremely attractive. Not in the same way that Sirius himself is. Sirius is sharp angles and contrasting colors. Dark hair offset by pale skin and grey eyes. This boy is nothing like that. 

He’s warmer. Tones bordering on gold in the evening light. Light brown hair dusts across his forehead and curls slightly above his ears. There’s a smattering of freckles patterned across his cheek bones and dancing across his nose. His green eyes brilliantly tying the whole effect together. But it’s not the eyes that are the most striking part of him. No, it’s the scars. 

And Sirius has seen his fair share of scars. The ones James had from some of their particularly riskier stunts. The ones that Peter had from countless clumsy moments. 

And the ones that he himself had. Carefully carved lines, deliberate lines laying side by side next to unplanned and accidental ones. 

Markers of a painful childhood that he can’t forget. That he can’t burn out or close his eyes and dream away. They won’t curl out and dissipate like smoke. But they will linger like it. A not so gentle reminder of past mistakes. 

His scars may be ugly, reminders of weakness and shortcomings. But this boy’s are beautiful. A clear and crafted tale of survival. 

The boy clears his throat. Perhaps Sirius was silent for much longer than he thought. 

“Can I help you,” the boy demands. 

Sirius gives the boy another once over. His eyebrows raising as he catches details he hadn’t noticed before. 

“I think the better question is can I help you.” He casts a pointed glance downwards at the boys feet. Feet that don’t happen to be wearing shoes.

The boy follows his gaze and scowls, a deep amber seeming to bleed into his green eyes. “Not unless you’re willing to give me your shoes.” 

A smirk crawls across Sirius’ face. “Sorry, I happen to like this pair.” 

“Figures,” the boy huffs. 

“I take it you were mugged,” Sirius says, it’s barely a question. More an acknowledgement. 

“Brilliantly done Mr. Holmes,” the boy says in return, tone dry. 

Sirius holds up his hands in mock surrender. “No need to attack me with fictional detectives. I’m only trying to help.” 

The boy sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry it’s just...frustrating.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Sirius says quickly. “I get it.” 

He gets a skeptical look in return. 

“No, really. If you’ve lived here as long as I have and haven’t gotten mugged at least once then you’re lying.” 

The boy laughs and Sirius finds that his heart, much to his annoyance, smile a beat. 

“Sounds rough.” 

Sirius shrugs. “That’s Gryffindor.” 

The boy nods. “I’m Remus.” 

“Sirius,” he waits a moment before adding. “I taking it you’re new here.” 

“That obvious, huh?” Remus asks. 

Sirius gestures at Remus. “Mugged at least once, remember.” 

“Ah,” Remus nods sagely. “I suppose this was my welcome wagon then.” 

“Yep,” Sirius agrees, tone mockingly cheerful.

“Lovely,” Remus deadpans, and Sirius laughs. 

To his surprise, Remus lets out a chuckle as well. 

“I’m sorry about your shoes,” Sirius says. 

“Don’t be, it’s my fault. Shouldn’t have been wandering around dark alleys anyways.” 

“That,” Sirius snickers. “Is very true.” 

Remus shoots him an amused glance. “You’re one to talk, you’re doing the same thing.” 

“Ah, yes, but the thing is,” Sirius takes a drag from his cigarette, dropping it onto the ground and crushing it under his boot afterwards. “The people around here know me.” 

Remus raises an eyebrow. 

“And I suppose you’re much too scary to mess with?”

Part of Sirius’ smile drops. Remus isn’t too far from the truth. Anyone with an ounce of sense in this town would know not to mess with a member of the Black family. Even a disowned member. 

“Something like that,” he says, voice soft. 

Remus seems to notice the change in tone and he quickly changes the subject. 

“So I suppose I’ll have to wait until morning to buy new shoes. Can’t imagine anywhere is open at— dammit I don’t have my watch.” 

“Seven thirty-two,” Sirius supplies helpfully. 

“Yes, right, seven thirty-two,” Remus echoes. 

“You’re not wrong,” Sirius says and Remus looses a long suffering sigh. 

“Guess I’ll be walking home barefoot then,” he says, swinging his arm in a gesture that can only be described as a mocking “hooray.” 

Sirius bites his lip. He’s not normally in the business of picking up random people but Remus doesn’t seem like a murderer. 

“I could always give you a lift,” he says after a moment. 

“You’re sure,” Remus asks, sounding genuinely surprised and somewhat skeptical at the offer. 

“Yeah,” Sirius says, he’s rapidly becoming less apprehensive about this situation. And from the looks of it, Remus is as well. 

“Well...thanks,” Remus says. 

Sirius nods. “Not a problem. Although you’re going to have to walk a bit first. My car is up near the Fair.” 

“Knew it couldn’t be all good,” Remus grumbles and Sirius snorts. 

“C’mon, Fair’s this way.” 

The two of them walk in the direction of the Fair. Sirius animating the walk with tales of his, James, and Peter’s various deeds. Most people who hear these stories look at him like he’s insane or about to pull a nasty prank on him. To his surprise, and delight, Remus’ expression says nothing of the sort. Instead, it’s used on a smile that all but screams mischief. 

“You and your friends seem like an interesting sort of people,” Remus says between laughs at the latest story. 

“That’s a nice way to put it,” Sirius laughs. 

They’ve come up on the Fairgrounds now. The air alive with the shouts of children and carnival music. The entire place lit up by string lights and flashing booths. 

“Do they do this every year?” Remus asks. 

Sirius nods. “Yeah, it’s our annual summer Fair thing,” he sends another look back up at the clouds. “Although try telling the weather that.”

Remus follows his gaze. The sky is fading into blue now, but the dark dark grey clouds are still inching ever closer with the threat of a downpour. 

“Weather,” Remus says. “Is an idiot.” 

“It really is,” Sirius agrees. 

They stop in front of the safari ride. There’s no sign of James or Peter. 

Sirius plucks his phone from his pocket, swiping up against the screen to check his messages. A moment later he groans. 

“What?” Remus asks. 

“The idiots went again,” Sirius explains. 

“On that thing?” Remus asks, jerking his head towards the water ride. 

His expression turns dubious when Sirius nods. “They’ll be soaked.” 

“Yep, they know,” Sirius says and Remus just shakes his head. 

“Idiots.” 

“Yeah, the kinda are.” 

Remus looks around the Fair. 

“Well, what should we do in the meantime? Assuming, of course, that your friends want a ride home as well.” 

“Not sure.” 

Sirius scans the fairgrounds. Countless rides dance across his vision, none of which seem appealing. 

“Anything you want to do,” Sirius asks. 

Remus shakes his head. “Not really, fun is kinda sucked out of everything when you have no shoes.” 

“Yeah, that’ll do it.” 

The two of them stand there for a moment. Just gazing around at their surroundings. Then, inspiration strikes Sirius. 

“I actually know a place,” he starts. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. It’s pretty cool actually.” 

“I’m sure it’s lovely but you’re forgetting one small detail.” 

“And what would that be.” 

Remus points downwards. “Shoes.” 

Sirius snaps his fingers in acknowledgment, wincing slightly at how he’d forgotten that so quickly. “Right.” 

He thinks for a moment. 

“Actually,” he says slowly. “I think I can help you out with that too.” 

——-

“I can’t believe you didn’t think of that before!” 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius hisses, but there’s no venom in his voice. “I just forgot.” 

“Gee thanks,” Remus laughs. 

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like you realized either.” 

“Very true,” Remus says, then, “they aren’t very comfortable though.” 

“I bet they aren’t,” Sirius looks down at the flip flops the other boy is now wearing. They’re bright pink and have little rainbows printed all over them. “We’ve been walking for ages and cheap carnival shoes aren’t comfortable even without walking.” 

“Where are we going by the way,” Remus asks. 

Sirius grins. “You’ll see.” 

They’ve been walking for quite a bit now. The sky is almost completely dark now. The end of blue hour finally fading away into black. 

A turn on a winding street leads them down onto the side of a small stream. The two of them follow it until finally, “Ta-da!” Sirius says, complete with jazz hands. 

“Oh...wow,” Remus breathes. 

They’re standing in front of a giant Ferris Wheel. It’s clearly old and very run down, but no less amazing. 

“How’d it get here?” 

Sirius shrugs. “The old Gryffindor Fair used to be here. They moved it farther up.” 

“But they left this here?”

“They left it here,” Sirius confirms. “C’mon, I’ll show you my favorite spot.” 

They end up sitting on the lowest of the hanging carts. Sirius undoing the latch on the lap bar as they slide into the seat. 

“This feels vaguely horror movie-esque,” Remus says pointedly. 

“Vaguely.” 

Sirius turns to look at Remus. His golden features look almost ethereal bathed in the soft silver glow of the moon. 

“So why’d you decide to move here?” Sirius asks. 

Remus shrugs. “We needed a change of scenery. Some...bad things happened where we were…” 

The end of the sentence hangs between them. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Remus means the scars. 

“I get that,” Sirius says. 

Remus jerks just head towards him. “Oh, really.” 

“Really,” Sirius says. “My parents were...interesting people.” 

Remus’ expression turns sympathetic. Normally Sirius hates it when people look at him like that. Laces with pity and false understanding. But there’s none of that in Remus’ expression. Instead there’s just…care. 

“I’m sorry,” Remus says. 

“Not your problem,” Sirius shrugs.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Remus counters, a hint of a challenge in his voice. 

Sirius is soarer having to respond by a buzz at his hip. He slides his phone out of his pocket. He snorts. 

“James is asking I’ve fucked off too,” Sirius says in response to Remus’ curious expression. 

“Ah,” Remus says. “Head back then?”

Sirius types out the last of his return message to James. 

“Yep. Ready to— oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

He wipes a drop of waters off of the bridge of his nose and Remus, for the millionth time, curses. 

“Here come the waterworks,” Remus says with a sigh. 

And then they’re there. It’s raining— no, pouring, now. Drop after drop of water coming down heavily without respite. 

They quickly clamber out of the seat. The entire ride rapidly being overcome by water. 

The two of them duck underneath the platform, laughing at their misfortune. 

“Figures it would rain,” Remus says, shouting slightly over the downpour. 

“Weather is an idiot,” Sirius says, and Remus smiles at the quote. 

Remus shivers, he’s quickly becoming cold under the combined efforts of the rain and wind. 

Sirius slides his jacket off, extending it to Remus. “Here.”

Remus shakes his head, slightly taking a step back. “It’s fine.” 

“Nope.” 

“Really, I‘ll be—“ 

“For the love of fuck just wear it.” 

Remus blinks. Sirius is standing close. Very, very close. Close enough the press the corner of the jacket to him, palm flat against his chest. 

“Ok,” he says softly, accepting the jacket and sliding it on. 

“There,” Sirius says, his voice oddly hushed. Nearly drowned out by the rain. 

“Better?” 

“Somewhat,” Remus agrees, voice also turned quite. 

They’re still very close. Extremely close. Close enough for Sirius too— 

Remus leans down and presses his lips to Sirius’. The kiss is soft and light and sweet. And over far too soon for Sirius’ taste.

Sirius finds it funny how perfect the weather can be in its timing. The entire thing is strangely poetic. Everything in this day has led to this moment. James and Peter getting on that damnable water ride. Sirius deciding to leave the fair and take a walk. His decision to take the long route instead of the short one. All of them, every single decision he’d made led to this moment. This picture perfect moment of two boys kissing in the rain.

And it’s not as if he does this very often. He doesn’t usually kiss strangers on the first day they met. But he finds that here, in this moment, he couldn’t care how long they’ve known each other. Time feels like an hourglass, each moment confined to the falling of a single grain of sand. Each grain somehow significant and insignificant and Sirius is drowning in it. That slow, and seemingly endless passage of time.

Remus is staring at him now, those striking green eyes sparkling with warmth and a hint of something better. Something hopeful. A silent question as to what the future holds. 

“I think,” Remus says slowly. “I think I might just like it here after all.” 

It seems as if, both of their summers have just gotten significantly more interesting.


End file.
